click to enlarge 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | Finish Once the Joker discovered escaping the deck was the easy part of the game, only then did it become paramount to find the tricks that work when no one else was around . - - - - - - - - - - Happy Birthday Adam!
Somehow, I've found myself in a bar the past three Saturday nights in a row.
There have been actual reasons for this though, however it is still highly unusual and could mean a few things.
One, I actually have friends to do things with every once in a while.
Two, I still don't like bars very much, but they are a million times better with someone you know in tow.
Three, you probably want to go to a bar with me since you'll never have to call a cab.
Four, You'll never have to call a cab with me around since I've still never had a glass, a pint, a shot, or never more than a sip.
Five, I've also never smoked anything, been stoned, gotten pierced, inked, or played tiddlywinks with a stranger's tonsils in the back room couch.
Geez, am I a prude or what.
Not that any of this sounds so appealing, but still. Far be it from me to say there is anything wrong with these things. If it's your thing be my guest. I'll even hold your keys and make sure you get home safely.
I must admit, I have full respect for bartenders. They have to be on their toes and fingers all night long. I sat there one night, trying to be inconspicuous gazing at Matt, the scruffy red-haired bartender, pour, take orders, smile deviously, pour some more, squeeze thigns, poke things, and then fling glass like some kind of fine-tuned, beautiful machine. It was a perfected, inspiring choreography. And since I know nothing of physical coordination I am envious of it.
But I suppose, as Mikey pointed out, it was kind of hard not to notice his pleasantly shaped butt. I usually don't even notice things like that, but even if I was straight I might have had to comment on it being there, bending over the bar...to take orders...several times. Along with the rest of him. Oh.In.Deed.
I would be curious to see what would happen though, just once, should I happen to partake of enough spirits to make me "buzzed" or "sloshed" or whatever the cool kids say these days. Knowing my luck I'd end up being the crazy one. So far I've seen a happy drunk, a depressed drunk, a chatty drunk, a drunk email, a drunk dial, a hyper drunk, yes, but never a violent one. I also enjoy being aware of my senses.
So jsut for the sake of pure curiousity, what do you like about the drink. It's enticement eludes me. I personally can't get past the taste of it. Give me your best enlightening description and maybe I'll, like, by you a drink someday. Bonus points if you can tell me what a hangover feels like and why you would put yourself through it again after getting one.
PS. While your concern is duly noted I'm not going to start drinking. I realize all too well how it can become an addiction of the worst kind. I'm just curious about things I've no experience with.
Allow me to preface that it's a freakin' travesty that one cannot easily obtain the soundtrack to The Muppet Movie.
It sort of boggles my mind. I like the movie just fine but the songs are what stuck with me most. I had the vinyl at some point, I am sure, because I have pictures of me opening it up for Christmas. (I often wonder at what point these things just vanish.)
It also makes me sad that the Muppets are not as they should be anymore. Back in the days when Kermit had a soul, and when it was all the rage to be an actor and have the honor of second billing to frogs, bears, pigs, chickens and things....I believe Kyle said it somewhere best that when Disney got a hold of them, they didn't know what to do with them.
The Gay Expat did a podcast about Sesame Street, about the days before the evil red one took over, that was right on the mark. And really you haven't lived until you've heard Madeline Kahn and Grover singing to each other.
So we end up with things like The Muppet's Wizard of OZ. Which could have been great! But wasn't. Not just because the decapitated head of Kermit rolling around like a beanbag was slightly disturbing.
But all of that is not the point of all of this. Because today is a happy day.
Okay, so technically that whole brood were around long before I was. Although, really I'm not much older than The Muppet Movie itself. It was released the same year my sister was born, in 1979. So given that it was around quite a lot, I consider it one of my siblings.
A little bird told me to check my long, dusty PO Box and lo, before me was a present in the form of an assembled CD soundtrack to The Muppet Movie. To you, kind sir, please know you've made me happier than an astronaut who's just tasted real food for the first time since coming back to Earth.
I'm listening to it now and I'm thinking, if my autobiography had a subtitle it might be something like: "Everything I Ever Needed To Learn Was A Song In The Muppet Movie".
Here's how to play, unless you can read Chinese. (In which case, teach me please!)
Hit the big blue circle to start.
The object: Try to get everyone to the other side of the river.
There are 8 people: Mom, Dad, Two Sons, Two Daughters, A Thief and A Policeman.
The rules: 1. Only two people maximum on the raft at a time. 2. Only the mom, dad, and policeman can operate the raft. 3. At any time, the mother can't be left alone with the sons. 4. At any time, the dad can't be left alone with the daughters. 5. At any time, the thief can't be left alone with any of the family.
Just take a deep breath and don't panic if you get stuck. But mainly you should play it so you can see people randomly assault each other when you make a wrong move. :P
PS, If you're stumped just email me and I'll send you the solution.
There are simply a ridiculous amount of birthdays in August. I could go on about how my wife, the younger monkey, my pop-in-law, half of the employees at work, and a whole slew of bloggers I can now call friends, just to give it a scratch, are all divine summer children. Good wishes to you all. And, yes, there's one more in there to that I keep failing to mention.
But since Aaron let the lion out of the bag, to avoid any confusion it is my birthday in approximately two days, on the 15th. I'll be 29. So there you go.
Just to celebrate early, since a) I don't plan that far ahead in my life and b) I have no idea what wild beasts I may encounter before that time, he and Mikey took me out this evening for dinner at one of my uber-fave eateries, Casa Tina. Thinking that this was not one of those silly chain establishments, but rather somewhere I like to eat and not feel sick afterwards, I did not have any suspicion that the rousing chorus of Happy Birthday by the overly gregarious staff and all of the patrons in the house accompanied by fried ice-cream and a candle would have come my way had it not been for the doings of those meddling kids. (They don't have a dog yet but let's assume any future pets would follow their example, shall we?)
...walking through a discount clothing store that is the size of a major theme park. A very well dressed man spiky blonde haired man in a shiny pink tie is trying to help a woman with dark red hair==a New York accent pick clothes out for a man who maybe her husband but she just doesn't get it. There is much plaid everywhere. Then we are walking through a part where everything is damp and I'm with my dad-and-mom-in-law and maybe my wife and the Elder Monkey has to go to the bathroom. When we find it, it has bright red lockers in it and men in towels after swimming. I am not however aroused merely annoyed as they are noisy and using all the available facilities. Later I'm trying to work a camera that has three rolls of film in it but it very well may be a digital camera but nobody can decide and it causes a huff. Then it's nighttime, everything is raining dark blue and there are flashlights everywhere. A gigantic tube/tunnel/tower has fallen nearby and nobody can get around or through it. We flicker in and out of a train that is moving up and down the length to find it has no end or beginning and has effectively sliced the country in two but people are climbing up and falling down repeatedly in desperation...
I think my dreams have a stuttering speech impediment.
Then I hear the dulcet tones of "Wake Up Jeff! We need you for the show!" Over and over and over and over and over...
Last night I dreamed about being at the head of a protest march that was a single file line of people dancing and I was leading them holding a staff that I had to squeeze with all my might in order to make electricity in my body keep the sputtering bulb from going out. We were chanting "Power of the sun, power to the sun." The sky was green, I was dressed in a black robe, there were old friends and new friends and people that I weren't sure were people. Beforehand we had met to have drinks and everyone was worried because I don't drink. I'm not sure if what I drunk was alcohol but it was brightly colored and steaming. So I had eggs instead. The march ended when the sky started to drip into a massive waveand like a wallflower sick of being on the sidelines, exploded like a banshee and ate the crowd.
"Daddy, why can't we watch the Care Bears?"
"Because they will eat your dreams along with your soul and spit them back up in an irretrievable vomitous mass."
This comic sums up basically everything I've been feeling the last few days: Dreams ~ found via joey comeau